Priests of Ferris

by Maurice Gee

  The song ended with what seemed to be a shout of triumph. Then came the invocation – cries from the High Priest, responses from the crowd, and a rhythmic beating of bones. They were asking, demanding, that Susan come to them. It ended with a prolonged rattling of bones, and the silence at the end was so deep it seemed to shiver.

  ‘Now,’ the High Priest whispered, ‘now my dears, you must do your part. You saw how my staff-bearer fell. It would make it more impressive if you did that. More dignified. But of course my guards will throw you if you prefer it.’

  ‘We’ll do it ourselves,’ Susan said. She tried to keep her voice from shaking. It was important to get to the end of the shell without guards.

  ‘And you, Soona?’ the High Priest said. ‘Ah, how I wish you had played your flute one last time.’

  ‘Yes, by ourselves.’

  ‘Very well. You’re two good girls. Off you go now. Walk slowly, it looks better. You can hold hands if you like.’

  But they went down side by side, without touching. They walked very slowly, and a breeze began to play, moving their dresses, making the silver wings flutter on their backs. In a moment Susan judged they were out of earshot.

  ‘Soona,’ she whispered, ‘listen to me. Keep walking slowly. We’ll be all right. Nick signalled me. They’re going to rescue us when we’re on the edge.’

  ‘They can’t rescue us.’

  ‘Yes they can. Nick must have brought the Birdfolk. But we’ll try to give them more time. I’ll pretend to stumble and you help me.’

  They walked a few steps more, then she faltered, held her arms out, sank to the ground, pretending to be overcome with fear. The crowd gave a bark, amused. It came, she thought, more from the priests than the townsfolk, and she took heart from that. Soona helped her up; and now the sound that came was a hum of approval. Soona was the central one in this drama, and it seemed compassion became her. As the fishergirl helped her up, Susan looked at the High Priest. He was watching them with interest and a small pleased smile.

  ‘Keep on helping me,’ she said. ‘We’ll go very slow.’ She leaned on Soona and they went with shuffling steps, and many pauses, out towards the lip of the shell. It was like walking on to the prow of a liner, except there were no rails. And the sea was far away, shining like glass, as smooth as glass. As they walked, the coast came into view, sliding out from under the shell, and the brown swamp followed, featureless and still. It made Susan dizzy. She had never liked high places, but everything was shrinking to this one – the lip of stone, the curving edge – and the way back was closed tight behind them. When she turned, the hot arena and the horse-shoe banks seemed to strike at her and force her closer to the drop. She clung to Soona, not acting fear. They stood there, a metre from the drop, two girls dressed up to die, with wings upon their backs and painted faces. The time had come. Susan felt betrayed. She could not think of rescue. She could not think of anything to do. Her eyes went blind with tears. She felt her knees give way.

  Nick did not see her fall that second time. He was looking out beyond the end of the seats opposite. Sheercliff, on its curve towards the sea, came into view several kilometres away, with the hill where the Birdfolk were hidden rising above it. Something was moving there, something heavy lumbered over the bush. He strained his eyes to see. It was like a giant insect with another tangled in its legs.

  ‘They’re coming,’ he said to Jimmy.

  ‘They better be quick.’

  Nick looked at Susan. She wasn’t acting now. Soona tried to help her up, but could not make her stand. He knew that soon the High Priest would send guards to throw her off.

  ‘Jimmy, I’m going out. I’ve got to delay them.’

  ‘Yeah. Play it cool, son. All we need is a couple of minutes.’

  Nick climbed over the rail in front of his seat and dropped on to the floor of the arena. He ran, bent from the waist, keeping his eyes on the guards about the dais. But everyone was watching Susan and Soona and he reached the edge of the shell before he was seen. A yell of anger rolled at him like a wave. The guards started towards him, but he saw the High Priest signal and they stopped. He stopped too, halfway between the dais and the girls. He faced the arena. Slowly the crowd grew quiet; and he heard the voice of the High Priest, speaking in a friendly tone: ‘Well boy, tell us who you are.’

  Nick raised his voice. ‘I am Nicholas Quinn.’ Then he shouted it. ‘I am Nicholas Quinn. And she is Susan. We have come to end the Temple.’

  A roar began in the crowd but the High Priest stopped it with a raising of his arm. He smiled at Nick. ‘This gets better and better. All we needed was a Nicholas. Tell me Nicholas, or Nick, how do you propose to end the Temple?’

  ‘We’ll end it, you wait and see.’

  ‘I am waiting.’

  ‘Everything the Temple says is lies. We’ll tell the people.’

  ‘There’s a better way than telling them,’ the Priest said. ‘Why not show them? Show them by flying from the cliff. They’ll believe that. Do it now. Will you walk to the edge or shall my guards help you?’

  Nick looked about him. Had he gained enough time? He could see nothing towards the hill. ‘I’ll walk by myself,’ he said hoarsely. He turned from the High Priest and walked to Susan, who was leaning on Soona, watching him with blurred despairing eyes. He took her from Soona and held her in his arms. ‘It’s all right,’ he whispered, ‘it’s all right. Ben’s coming. The Birdfolk are coming. Look Susan, here they are.’

  They burst from behind the tiers; they were in the sky, where it had been empty: ten giant birds with wings beating. Ben was sprawled in a harness of vines beneath them, with Dawn clinging to the fur on his back. A gale of wind struck the shell, almost knocking Nick and Susan and Soona into space. They fell to their knees, trying to find a hold on the marble. The Birdfolk seemed to tumble down, then released the vines, and soared, spreading like a star-burst. Ben pitched on the shell and rolled over twice, and Dawn sprang away to avoid being crushed. She had Jimmy’s axe and Kenno’s bow strapped on her back. And Jimmy and Kenno were there, grabbing them, while Limpy threw aside vines tangling the bear. Ben rose to his feet. He rose on his hind legs and bellowed, with paws extended and claws unsheathed. And behind him, behind Nick and Susan on the shell, another flight of Birdfolk burst from below the rim and hung in the air, with arrows notched in their bows, facing the arena.

  The guards had scrummed about the dais. They seemed to cover it in a mound. The High Priest was nowhere to be seen. Only the staff-bearer and the Candidates stood in the open.

  Jimmy ran forward, holding his axe high.

  ‘I’m Jimmy Jaspers,’ he yelled. ‘I’m the bloke yer been callin’ the Terrible One. So lissen ter me, yer bunch of bloddy no-hopers. Yer Temple’s done for. Finished! Kaput! Yer High Priest’s finished. We’ll give ’im a job cleanin’ dunnies. That’s all ’e’s good for. So keep yer bums on yer seats. One move out of you lot an’ them Birds up there is gunner let yer have it.’

  A rage-thickened scream came from the High Priest. ‘Never! Do not listen. Attack them! Kill them! This is heresy.’ But he had no way of commanding his deaf guards. A few must have seen his signal, for they ran at Jimmy. Bows twanged in the air and they fell.

  ‘Priests! My priests. Attack! Throw them off the cliff.’

  But the priests on the seats were Temple priests and office priests, not hunters or fighters. One or two moved, and arrows thudded into their chests. The huge Birdfolk in the air, burning in the sun, and the bear, standing tall, coloured like the sky, were too much to understand or fight against, they paralysed them. As for the townsfolk, they watched and did not move. They had never had any love for priests.

  Jimmy ran back to Kenno. ‘If we can keep them guards pinned down, we got ’em.’

  ‘We’ve got to get the High Priest,’ Kenno said. ‘I can’t see for a shot.’

  Another dozen guards broke from the pack. They charged, with out-thrust swords, and tongueless mouths in a silent scream. Ben moved
and swatted three, but the others came past and the Birdfolk over the shell shot them down.

  Kenno had not loosed his arrow. ‘There he is.’ He sent it speeding at the pack. But the High Priest jumped out of its line behind the dais.

  ‘He’s letting the Bloodcat go,’ Nick yelled. He swung Susan behind him.

  The Bloodcat came out of the scrum of guards as though propelled by a spring. His movement was too swift to follow – a flash, a jet of fire. Arrows fizzed at him, but he was gone from where they struck. Ben had fallen back on all fours. He half rose as the cat came at him, and the animal, changing from left to right, breaking speed and angle, launched himself on a jump that would carry him over the bear, over Jimmy and Kenno and Dawn and Limpy, and bring him down close to the lip of the shell, where Susan crouched behind Nick. But he had not allowed for Ben’s height. And it seemed the bear was able to read his mind, for he rose on his hind legs in the instant the cat sprang, and raised his fore-legs and plucked the animal out of the air like a man catching a football. The fight was over in a second. Colours flowed together, a marbling of red and blue, a glint of tooth, a slash, a tear, and the Bloodcat went bowling away like a ball, back towards the dais. He sprang again, straight up, and arrows loosed from the air struck where he had been. Ben stood upright, swaying, with a wound bleeding in his chest. The Bloodcat was raked down its side, four parallel grooves. It gathered itself to spring a second time. Ben half-raised his front paws. Then neither animal moved. Jimmy yelled to the Birdfolk in the sky, ‘Don’t shoot. Ben’s talkin’ to ’im.’

  Then, while the arena grew silent, and no one moved on the shell, and overhead the Birdfolk swept round and round, the two animals, the blue bear, the red cat, both dripping blood on the marble, fastened their eyes, locked their eyes together, with such intensity, such strength from one and hatred from the other, it seemed to some of the watchers that a thread, a white straight line was drawn between them. Susan saw it, and felt the force, the hatred, the confusion, running along it. Dawn slipped back to her side.

  ‘Ben’s breaking the High Priest’s control of him,’ she whispered.

  The cat trembled and crouched close to the ground.

  ‘He’s breaking him free. He’s telling him to go home. The Bloodcat – he doesn’t know. The Priest has twisted him. But yes, Ben’s getting him free. The Bloodcat’s so savage. He wants to kill. He wants you, Susan. Ben’s making him see his home – the Hotlands. He’s telling him to go there. Susan, he’s healing the wound they made in his mind.’

  The Bloodcat lay watching Ben, unblinking, with his head resting on his paws. And Ben dropped back on all fours and ambled a few steps forward. Then Susan felt a pressure in her mind, a command that made her lean towards the bear. Nick kept his hold on her.

  ‘Let go,’ she said.

  ‘Ben wants her,’ Dawn said.

  ‘The Bloodcat’s there. She can’t go.’

  ‘The Bloodcat won’t hurt her.’

  ‘Let go, Nick,’ she said.

  She went forward, past Kenno and Jimmy, and stopped by Ben and put her hand on his neck. An image formed in her mind, and though it made her tremble, she nodded and obeyed. She left Ben’s side and walked towards the Bloodcat. She felt the bear holding them, the cat as firmly as she, even as it came to its feet and drew its lips back in a silent snarl. She saw the muscles trembling under its hide, and its eyes burning. But she reached out and touched its head; and she slid her hand down its neck and let it rest on the studded collar. ‘Quiet,’ she said as the Bloodcat rumbled in its chest. She unfastened the collar and let it fall. Then she stepped back and looked the cat in its eyes. ‘Go,’ she said.

  For a moment more the animal looked at her. Then it shifted its eyes to Ben. ‘Kill,’ cried the High Priest, but the sound was no more than a squeaking. The Bloodcat turned. It ran, and leaped the huddle of guards, and sped along the arena, and up the tiers, where the priests parted with yells. It gathered itself and jumped twenty metres across the gap from the top row of seats to the brow of the cliff, and stood there a moment, red on grey. Then it turned and vanished into Wildwood.

  Susan ran back to Ben. The danger was not over yet, not while the High Priest was hidden in his guards. He had burrowed into them like a maggot, and they huddled over him, bristling with swords. But to Susan it seemed strength had gone out of them. Their minds had been twisted as cruelly as the cat’s, and something had happened to them with the freeing of the animal.

  Jimmy came up and stood with Ben and Susan. ‘None of youse needs to get hurt,’ he cried. ‘Jus’ chuck yer boss out, he’s the one we want.’

  ‘They can’t hear,’ Susan said. She made a movement with her hands, as though parting them. A guard came rushing at her, and an arrow pierced him from the sky.

  ‘No,’ Susan cried. ‘No more killing. I don’t want anyone killed, not even the High Priest.’

  ‘How are we gunner get ‘im out?’ Jimmy said.

  ‘Tell Ben to talk to them. They’re like the Bloodcat, they’ve been hurt. Tell them they’re free.’

  Ben had already understood. Again she felt the power of his ‘speech’ flowing out – broader this time, it seemed to enfold the guards. And it made them open their tongueless mouths as though they were trying to speak in return; and made tears flow from their eyes. It was almost as if they were being born. After a while, in threes and fours, they laid down their swords. They parted, and the High Priest stood alone beside the dais. He looked around him wildly, his hands went darting at this one, that one of his guards, to hold them at his side, but they freed themselves and walked away.

  ‘Yer on yer own, matey,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘But I am – I am the High Priest.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘There is no Priest,’ Susan said. ‘And no Temple. Kenno, put down your bow. I promised we wouldn’t hurt him.’

  ‘He must die,’ Kenno said.

  ‘I am the High Priest. Susan guards me. Arrows cannot touch me.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  ‘No,’ Susan cried. She stepped in front of Kenno. ‘There’s no need to kill him. His guards are gone. He’s got no power left.’

  ‘He’s got his priests. And his army down there.’

  ‘I will go to my army,’ cried the High Priest. ‘I will lead them.’ He advanced on Susan, a little man with a round belly and a sharp nose and demented eyes. His bones clicked on his chest. ‘I will fly to them. You cannot. But I can fly. I am Susan’s Priest. My guards will return and worship me. I shall live forever.’

  ‘’e’s flipped ’is lid,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘He’s better dead.’ Kenno raised his bow.

  ‘No. Let him go,’ Susan said. She looked at the High Priest with pity. ‘You are free. No one will follow you again.’

  The High Priest looked around wildly. Susan thought she had never seen anyone more alone. She almost felt the panic beating in him. He moved in a shuffling old-man’s run. He ran to the staff-bearer, standing by the dais, and wrenched the staff from him. Then he ran back past Ben, past Susan and Jimmy. He pushed Soona aside, and stood on the edge of the shell.

  ‘Susan,’ he shouted into the void, ‘hear me! I am your Priest. I have your wings. I shall fly.’

  He raised the staff high over his head, and gave a little two-footed hop, and a yell of eagerness – and was gone with no more sound. Nick and Kenno and Limpy ran to the edge and peered over. They seemed to watch for a long time. Then Kenno turned and walked a few steps back. He looked at the silent priests and silent townsfolk, and raised his hand and pointed his thumb down. ‘That’s how he flew.’

  The town side of the arena rocked with laughter. It went on and on, while the white priests sat in silence. Then Susan walked forward. She had one more thing to do, then she could go home. She came to the dais and mounted it. She raised her hand and slowly the laughter stopped. When everything was silent she spoke clearly. Her voice filled the arena.

  ‘I am Susan Ferris. And th
at is Nicholas Quinn. And the one with the axe is Jimmy Jaspers. We come from Earth. We’re human like you. We’re nothing special. So stop worshipping us. And stop your Temple. The High Priest is dead. He was the last. There won’t be any more priests.’

  She felt very tired. She did not want to say any more. And she did not want to tell them what to do – except for one thing. She faced the priests.

  ‘Take off your Ferris bones.’

  They seemed confused, and some rebellious. It seemed for a moment they would not obey. But the Birdfolk swooped lower, and slowly they took them off and held them in their hands.

  ‘Now put them down.’

  They obeyed. The stand chattered like starlings as the bones fell on the floor.

  ‘You’re not priests any longer, you’re men and women of O. That’s all. I’m going back to Earth now. You won’t see me again. I’m not going to tell you what to do. You can decide. O belongs to you, and the Birdfolk and the Woodlanders, and the others. You can make a new religion if you want to. It’s up to you. But all I ask is – leave me out of it.’

  She stepped down; and Kenno jumped up and started a speech. She did not hear it. It seemed to be words about a council and a government and an alliance with the Birdfolk and the Woodlanders and the Seafolk and the Varg, and everyone being equal, and learning from the lessons of the past. People cheered as he spoke. She did not take any notice, but went off to one side so she would not interfere with it, and said to Nick and Jimmy, ‘Take these wings off me.’

  Nick unfastened them from her back and threw them away.

  ‘Now I want to find a creek and wash this stuff off my face.’

  ‘They don’t need us here,’ Nick said.

  ‘So we’ll make ourselves scarce,’ Jimmy said. He put his hand on Ben’s neck. ‘I want to get the old feller into the bush and make ’im lie down.’